“You made me jump and you made me nervous/I thought for a moment that you were a psych nurse,” sings RVG’s Romy Vager in “Little Sharkie & the White Pointer Sisters”. Adopting the persona of a friend who believed he could talk with dead celebrities, she adds, “It could be the coffee/But it’s probably the speed.” That such a line is wrapped inside a jaunty indie tune that recalls classic Australian acts like The Go-Betweens sums up RVG–melodically addictive, but with an uneasy, slightly unhinged undercurrent. That feeling permeates the Melbourne quartet’s second album, whether Vager is reaching for the intellectual (“Asteroid” imagines philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein reassessing his life’s work after a casual comment from a friend) or wallowing in despondence (“It must be all the drugs the doctor puts you on that makes you want to die,” she sings on the harrowing “Photograph”). Helmed by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds’ producer Victor Van Vugt, Feral is raw, ugly and beautiful, all at once.